The Change A Day Makes
by blainedarling
Summary: Sebastian was never supposed to go back to the army. Blaine was never supposed to forgive him when he did.


**A/N: **This was for a prompt I got on tumblr - I usually don't post my fills over here (because I'm lazy) but given this is slightly longer than my usual drabbles, I thought I would :)

* * *

**i.**

It's funny, how quickly things can change. One moment, everything is as one has come to expect it to be. The alarm clock blares in the morning, signaling the start of another day. Arms stretching and limbs awakening, a slow dance to pull oneself to full consciousness and proceed; mind already ticking over what must be done in the course of the next twelve hours or so.

But, that morning wasn't like every other, it wasn't what Blaine had anticipated when he awoke, expecting to bump into a warm body at his side as he wriggled his legs, just tipping over from the boundary of sleep into the real world.

"Sebastian?" he called out, running a hand through his wild curls as he wandered through into the living room, squinting slightly at the bright morning sunlight that was pouring in via the wide windows.

Blaine paused, his feet stilling on the cool wooden floor, his breath catching as he took in the sight of his boyfriend of six years standing next to the table, bag packed at his feet, kitted out in his military uniform. The uniform he'd promised Blaine he would never have to wear again.

Sebastian had disappeared off into the army straight from high school; Blaine not within his social circles enough anymore at that point to hear much of this news until he had returned and they bumped into one another by chance at a mutual friend's birthday party in New York.

His military life was done, he'd said. He'd served his time and he wouldn't ever go back, he'd said. My life is here now, he'd said. And yet, there he stood, as if those words were as empty as Sebastian's side of the bed had been when Blaine had risen just a few moments previously.

"I don't understand," Blaine murmured quietly, wrapping his arms around himself instinctively, an urge kicking in to protect himself, to not let himself be hurt. But, it was too late for that, because it already hurt, a dull ache settling in his chest at the sight of Sebastian preparing to leave. His thoughts turned fleetingly to the deep velvet box tucked in his sock drawer. Blaine had had plans to propose for the past three weeks.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian said quietly, toying with the strap of his bag. "They're deploying extra troops out to the Middle East. I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do," Blaine cried furiously, storming across the living room, his bare feet pattering against the floor. "You do have a choice. You can choose to stay here with me."

"I'm sorry, Blaine," Sebastian repeated, not quite meeting the shorter man's gaze as he picked up his bag, hauling it over his shoulder.

Blaine's slap echoed throughout the room, the sharp sting ringing out. Sebastian paused, his head tipped slightly to the side from the force of it, the red of Blaine's palm clear across his skin. He turned, walking to the door, only looking back once he had it open.

"I love you, Blaine Anderson. I will never stop loving you," he promised, his voice quivering softly, his knuckles white on the door handle.

"Just go," Blaine whispered, squeezing his eyes shut until he heard the door close quietly.

Only then did he allow himself to crumble to the floor, hugging his knees up to his chest, the ache settling deep inside of him in a manner he didn't know if he'd ever find a way to heal.

* * *

**ii.**

Blaine spent months living in an almost robotic state, a ghost of his former self. He refused to allow himself to simply grieve in a healthy manner, as his friends expected or encouraged. Grieving was for those lost by some horrible twist of fate - Sebastian had chosen to leave. To leave him, and the life they had been building together. So, he continued, going through the daily motions in strict, logical patterns. It was a bare existence; just surviving, rather than living.

Eventually, Blaine allowed himself to be pushed out of his comfort zone, out of his regular routines into something different. It's been nearly a year, his friends whispered gently in his ear as they led him to a small booth in the back of a nightclub on the Lower East Side. It was dark, musty almost, the beat of the music reverberating throughout the entire building, the bass thrumming up from the soles of his shoes right up and out of his body.

As the night wore on, the music became louder, the drinks became stronger, and something within Blaine snapped. His friends had allowed him to simply sit and drink, no rush for him to talk or dance, or do anything besides spend a Friday night out of his apartment for two-turned-one. But, when Blaine snapped, he found himself taking the initiative.

He loosened his bow tie to hang freely from his collar, popping a few buttons to allow a cool rush of air to hit his exposed neck. He pushed his way through the crowd, only a little unsteady on his feet which was impressive given how much alcohol he had consumed in such a short space of time. He could feel eyes on him, could feel the intensity of their gazes and the warmth of their bodies as they pressed in closer. Blaine's head was thrown back, the heat of the club causing his hair to curl out freely from the gel, sweat pooling in the dip of his collarbone.

Luke was his name; the one that dared to edge closer to the wild thing in the mass of bodies. He was, in many ways, exactly what Sebastian was not - at least, in the physical sense. Tall, yes, but more strongly built where Sebastian was slim and lean. Short, dark hair and tanned skin, arms that circled Blaine tightly and pulled him into his body. Blaine felt his hand reach down to brush over his ass and decided then he would take him home that night. Perhaps his personality was different too, to Sebastian, but Blaine wasn't interested in finding out.

* * *

**iii.**

Luke became a permanent fixture in Blaine's life; but never were they boyfriends, never was it a relationship. He was occasionally permitted to spend the night in Blaine's apartment, but that was the extent to which any intimacy between them went. Even then, it could hardly be called affectionate. Blaine would roll over onto his side, facing the wall, once they were done, tucking the blankets around himself and offering only a stiff "goodnight" before settling to sleep. Luke had attempted to close the gap between them, to share body heat between them but Blaine would gently but firmly move him back again, each time, without fail.

As far as Luke knew, it was the age gap that kept Blaine so on edge with him, even a whole year after they had met. Luke had just turned twenty, a junior in college and Blaine was painfully aware of how close he was to hitting thirties. It was something he had accepted in his relationship with the older man, even if the naïve part of him hoped that maybe one day Blaine would look past that minor detail and allow them to be something more.

For the amount of time they spent together, Blaine had a lot of secrets which Luke had to be careful not to press. The biggest mystery of all was the spare room which, Blaine had made very clear from day one, was off-limits. Luke was only human, he could only resist the temptation to look so long. What if he was hiding dead bodies in there? What if he secretly collected poisonous snakes? Just a peek, for ease of mind.

Luke didn't know what to make of it when he did open the door; one evening as he waited for Blaine to come home, sure he still had at least twenty minutes given what rush hour was like in the city. The walls were stacked high with boxes, accompanied by a few rails of clothing - mostly suits, from the look of things. He cautiously opened the nearest box, and then the next, and the next. It seemed to be a pretty standard collection of men's possessions.

He ran a hand over the suits, taking in the length of the leg and breadth of the shoulders - far too big for Blaine, that was for sure. This left him with two options: Blaine was secretly a serial killer with a penchant for keeping his victim's clothing and personal items, or the man these things belonged to had left him. Luke discarded the first option pretty quickly: he might not know Blaine that well, but he liked to think he knew enough to be sure he wasn't capable of mass murder.

So, who was the man who had broken Blaine so much as to leave him with a room full of his things that he kept hidden away? It plagued Luke for the rest of the evening - if Blaine noticed his distracted gaze, he didn't mention it. Perhaps he had passed away; at the very least, it was the most plausible explanation Luke could come up with, and enough for him not to want to pry any further.

Luke found out the truth a few weeks after he'd taken his first step into the forbidden room. He was laying the table, Blaine calling something vaguely from the kitchen about utensils and drawers and _how many times, Luke?_ He didn't bother to respond; Blaine was incredibly picky about the kitchen, for whatever reason, but if Luke was being honest he was never going to learn which drawer was for the vegetable knives and which was for the general cutlery, and had discovered it was better just to apologise with a kiss rather than promise he would remember next time. It would usually be met with an _almost_ fond smile and roll of eyes before Blaine found something else in the wrong place.

So, in all aspects, it was a normal evening for the two of them. The light knock on the door was the first abnormality - not unusual, exactly, although Blaine's friends didn't often call round without phoning him first. Luke opened the door without thinking twice about telling Blaine first, and came face to face with a man he'd never seen before, in military get-up complete with bag at his feet.

It wasn't until the man's eyes locked on his own and Luke took in a green the exact shade that Blaine had vehemently refused against when he'd been redecorating the bathroom that he understood.

"You're him," he managed, before he was distracted with a crash of glass from behind him.

* * *

The kitchen had always been Sebastian's area of expertise - Blaine could cook the basics, but it was his boyfriend that would spend hours in there, stacking up pile after pile of dirty dishes as he created the most elaborate meals for the two of them. He'd spent an entire weekend teaching Blaine the proper way to organise the kitchen and apparently it had stuck. Blaine didn't have the patience to explain it all out to Luke but he found himself getting immensely frustrated when things turned up in the places they shouldn't be.

Then, there were the frankly ridiculous things, like the jar of pasta sauce in his hand, that he'd found in the back of a cupboard. How difficult was it to learn that once they'd been opened, they should be kept in the fridge?

"It says it on the side," Blaine sighed under his breath, as he walked into the living room to point it out to Luke, yet again.

Blaine looked up from the jar to see Sebastian standing in the doorway - the exact place he'd last seen him, over two years ago. He hadn't noticed Blaine yet, instead looking at Luke with that same critical frown that he knew so well. He looked thinner than Blaine remembered, his hair shorter, his face a little rougher perhaps. The same elegant hands, one resting on the doorframe, the other wrapped around the strap of his bag. The same pattern of freckles. The same green eyes that looked over to him at that moment; which is when his hands failed him and the jar went crashing to the floor. Glass splintered out over the wood, the sauce like blood among the shards.

Luke was at his side in a second, pulling Blaine and his bare feet away from the mess with a gentle tone, before mumbling something about getting a cloth. Blaine wasn't listening, his eyes still fixed on Sebastian. It wasn't like him to be so quiet, Blaine noted, but he supposed he was waiting for him to invite him in. Blaine didn't plan on giving him that privilege.

"Get out of my home," Blaine spat, hands curling into fists at his side, not from anger, but to stop himself from reaching out for the other man on instinct. His mind was fighting against his body desperately. He reminded himself firmly how much Sebastian had hurt him; reminded himself that he didn't deserve another chance. But, that didn't stop his longing to press into Sebastian's body, to fit back together, to bury his face into his neck like he used to dream of being able to do again.

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, his eyes pleading and warm, and so horribly familiar.

"Out," Blaine repeated, his voice cold and low.

Luke reached out to touch his arm and Blaine flinched back, not moving again until Sebastian had shut the door and the sounds of his footsteps had stopped echoing down the hallway.

That was the first time Blaine ever let Luke hold him; burying himself into his arms as choking sobs tore through his body, dinner forgotten while the men lay entwined on the sofa. Luke had always known there was something inside of Blaine that had broken a long time ago - but never could he have imagined how bad it really was.

* * *

**iv.**

Sebastian didn't pester Blaine to see him or talk to him. He didn't do much really; simply found himself a hotel round the corner from their apartment - _Blaine's_ apartment - and tried to readjust to the sounds of the city that buzzed around him. He knew Blaine needed time to process his being back and it was the least he could give to him after disappearing like he had. He didn't allow himself to dwell on the thought that Blaine might never forgive him for what he did - he wasn't giving up on him, regardless of the teenager he seemed to have collected sometime in the past two years while he'd been gone.

So, Sebastian found himself spending his days at a small coffee shop near the park. It had been their place once upon a time; quiet and secluded, just off the street in a way that you might not notice until you've accidentally walked past it fifty times. It was as good a place as any for Sebastian to work on his applications for culinary schools, all the while knowing that when Blaine was ready to see him, he would be able to find him without too much difficulty.

And find him he did, less than a week later. Sebastian looked up as the bell over the door chimed, pen dropping onto the stack of papers on the table with a dull thunk. Blaine looked exhausted, a shadow of stubble across his jaw despite the fact that it was mid-morning, his shirt half untucked.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were calling in during the middle of a walk of shame," Sebastian commented when Blaine sat down, uninvited, at his table.

"I was at Luke's last night," he shrugged in response, smiling gratefully when Lacey - the young woman who'd taken over from old Cassie in the time while Sebastian had been gone - brought him his usual coffee.

Sebastian frowned a little, looking between the two of them. "You kept coming here?" he asked quietly.

Blaine nodded, his gaze fixed on the mug cupped between his hands. "I thought maybe one day you'd just appear in the doorway and tell me you were a fool to leave," he smiled sadly.

"I was," Sebastian murmured, aching to reach out for Blaine's hand but something inside of him saying it was too soon to even try. He had to earn Blaine's trust before he could be his again, in any sense of the word.

"So, Luke. Is he even legal?" Sebastian smirked, feeling a warmth settle in his chest as Blaine smiled. It was reassuring to know there was still something easy between them, even in all the complications of uncertainty.

Blaine barked out a laugh in response, finally looking up to give Sebastian a firm stare. "As far as he tells me anyway, but.." He trailed off, running a finger over the rim of his mug with a shrug. "He's just a kid, really."

"I just want you to know, I kept my promise. I never stopped loving you, Blaine."

Blaine smiled sadly, nodding a little before he reached across the table to rest his hand lightly over Sebastian's. It was a small gesture, but enough to spark a little hope in Sebastian; hope that it wasn't over. Not yet, anyway.

Blaine stood up, leaving his still half-full coffee cup on the table and throwing down a few bills next to it.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sebastian."

* * *

**v. **

So it continued over the following months. Sebastian was usually there first, coming straight from his classes to sit at the familiar table, and quickly getting to know Lacey just as well as Blaine seemed to. Blaine would appear not long after, usually balancing a stack of sheet music under one arm, his smile getting a little wider with each day that passed.

When Blaine stood up to leave that Wednesday afternoon, he caught Sebastian off-guard with a slight change in his usual farewell.

"I'll see you tonight, Sebastian."

Sebastian watched after Blaine as he left, the corners of his own mouth twitching at the triumphant grin he tried and failed to hide as he cast one last look over his shoulder.

_Tonight._ The word hung heavy in the air as Sebastian went through the rest of his afternoon, his mind awash with thoughts of Blaine and what the evening could bring for them.

* * *

Every afternoon, when he returned from his non-dates with Sebastian, Blaine would go to the spare room, choose an item and return it to its original place in the apartment. Slowly, as the days went by, it was evolving before his eyes. When they had moved in, it had been their beginning. Then, it became their home. When Sebastian had left, it had become a private hell, a box of solitude and painful memories. It slowly changed into just an apartment, the place where Blaine lived, but nothing more. But, Blaine was ready to start calling it theirs again.

That Wednesday, he knew Luke would be waiting for him at the apartment, just as he'd asked him to. He'd been seeing the younger man less and less frequently, and as much as Blaine was sure he probably understood whatever they'd had was over, he felt he owed it to him to say a proper goodbye.

Luke was standing on the doorstep, scuffing his foot along the skirting board as he waited.

"Hey," Blaine murmured, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek gently before opening the door. He looked behind him, confused, as Luke just stood there, unmoving. "Aren't you coming in?"

"Doesn't seem much point," Luke shrugged, smiling sadly. He knew it was time to say goodbye to Blaine; what he hadn't realised was quite how much he'd miss him.

"I'm sorry," Blaine murmured, casting his gaze to the floor. "For everything."

"Don't be," Luke reassured him. "I've learned a lot from you, Blaine. And not just about how to organise a kitchen."

Blaine chuckled softly, reaching out to take Luke's hand in his. "I'll miss you, you know."

Luke nodded, squeezing his hand in understanding. "Goodbye, Blaine."

And Luke was gone.

* * *

Blaine looked around the apartment one more time, sure that everything was in place. Exactly how he had planned it all those years ago. Simple. Obvious. Just one very clear message. All he had to do now was hope that he'd get the answer he'd always dreamed of.

* * *

Sebastian raised his hand to knock, pausing with a soft grin at the sight of the key taped to the front door. He pulled it free, walking in just as he might have when he lived there. Easy, natural.

"Honey, I'm home," he called out teasingly. It had been one of their little rules, to never say that phrase when coming in the front door. Too overused, they'd agreed, before sealing it with a kiss.

He paused in the doorway to the living room, everything exactly as he'd remembered it - he'd noticed enough to see that it hadn't been like this on the night he had first appeared on Blaine's doorstep. It felt familiar in a way that sent a warmth right from his lips down to the tips of his toes.

That feeling continued as he walked to the table, the light grazing off the velvet box that sat at his usual place. He flipped it open, the silver of the ring bright and inviting. Only Blaine would know that he wouldn't want any kind of big, elaborate proposal. Only Blaine would know that if he'd gotten down on one knee, Sebastian would have told him to stand up and do it again. Blaine knew him better than anyone.

Sebastian picked up the box and carried it with him to the kitchen - he may not be a traditionalist in any sense when it came to those sorts of things, but he was adamant that Blaine be the one to put it on for him. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist as he stood pressed up behind him, holding the box open in front of their bodies.

"Would you do the honors?" he asked, waggling his hand out in front of them, shivering at the cool kiss of the metal against his skin.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Blaine murmured, turning around in his arms to smile up at him, his eyes warm as he looked up through his eyelashes.

"On one condition," Sebastian hummed, looking around the kitchen critically. "You let me continue with the cooking before you burn down the kitchen."

Blaine laughed, hands sliding warm up over Sebastian's arms to loop around his neck, his fingers teasing at the soft hair at the nape of his neck affectionately. "Yes dear," he grinned, leaning up as if to kiss him before pausing.

It had all been so familiar, so easy, as if the past two and a half years or so had never happened. But, they still lingered, a presence that could not be so easily forgotten. Blaine breath was hot on Sebastian's, burning as he moved closer, slow enough to allow Sebastian to stop him if he wanted to. He didn't.

Blaine paused again, his lips just brushing Sebastian's although it wasn't quite a kiss, not yet. "And I love you too," he whispered, before he pressed forward, the slide of their mouths together practiced and accustomed, yet new in a way Sebastian couldn't explain.

It was a new beginning in an old setting; a day that should have happened so long ago but nevertheless was no less perfect, if a little delayed. The change of a day may always bring a new challenge or a new opportunity in a world of uncertainty, but change cannot fight against a constant force. And combined, Blaine Anderson and Sebastian Smythe are the very strongest of elements.


End file.
